


Maneuvers

by syredronning



Series: Draws [7]
Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Kinky, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/syredronning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which everyone is indulging in strategic moves, some more successful than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maneuvers

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to "Domino Effects" and "Interlude in Green".
> 
> Thanks for the extremely helpful comments and the wonderful beta goes to madelf. All remaining flaws are solely mine.

Monday, 0620, Star Fleet HQ internal chat

_y_tan: Just saw Adm. P. when I got my coffee on the seventh floor. _

_t_sylvester: And, did you ask him if it's true?_

_y_tan: You kidding? _

_t_sylvester: Adm B made it quite clear in the meeting that they're on leave together. Not much left to imagination_   
_t_sylvester: Was really pissed about P dumping the Borg material at his door and vanishing for a week._

_y_tan: It's not as if Kirk has changed much after his wedding, for all I heard._

_t_sylvester: Wouldn't be the only officers to marry just to avoid inconvenient reassignments. _   
_t_sylvester: You're just jealous that you never managed to have sex with P although you tried back then when you served under him on the Orinoko._

_y_tan: ...guess one's got to be a genius to register on his scanners. _

_t_sylvester: Got to go. Let's meet for lunch. _   
_t_sylvester signed off._

***  
Monday, 1305, message sent from a café in downtown SF

_Notes on private conversation over lunch with Adm. CP at 1100 today. Subject of interest: material on Borg species. _

_CP confirmed that source of material is S1. Material was handed over in person in CP's apartment on the evening of… Attending persons: CP, S1, JTK, LHM. LHM had to leave early due to emergency call. S1 obviously planned to inform Star Fleet by way of CP though main object of trust still JTK ._

_S1 has met CP in his timeline, where CP commanded Enterprise for eleven years. S1 was his science officer. [Please add cross-reference to relevant files.]_

_CP concerned about S1's knowledge getting into the wrong hands, e.g. by abduction &amp; torture. Obviously does not know about threat of S1 concerning automatic suicide devices triggered in case of such attempts._

_Due to his connections and the planned assignment, I recommend reclassifying CP to observation level B2._

_John Farnham_

_Attached bill from Brassiere DuPont, 130 credits - please refund ASAP._

_P.S. Ali, I know the bill's high, but there's nothing better than French food to get him talking. I should know, I did the cooking for the two of us all through the academy._

***  
Monday, 1432, Message from Adm. Nogura, SF HQ, Earth, to Adm. April, Federation Embassy on Delta V

_Hello Robert,_

_As decided on Friday, I just offered Pike the command of the new Borg task force. He didn't look too happy about it. I gave him a week for his decision._

_I know he's had some tough years. If he'd come to me and insisted on a new command after getting out of the wheelchair, I'd have supported him – but he never asked. I hope this time, he'll come around. If he doesn't, at least we know then that we can't count on him for the future, which would be a shame. So if you happen to contact him in the next few days, try to push him a little. He might listen to you._

_Regarding the rumor, seems it's true. Barnett says Pike confirmed as much in their talk this morning. You can imagine Barnett's opinion on the matter. Well, more luck to them – as we both know, even a more conventional relationship is hard to handle over the distance._

_I'll keep you posted._

_H._

***  
Monday, 2230 local time, Moscow, text message from McCoy to Kirk

_He said we can hit his apartment whenever we want to, so I don't see a reason why you shouldn't fly back to San Francisco for the night, even if he isn't answering your call at the moment. Hope you'll have fun._

_P.S. Russians are good at drinking but can't flirt for shit._

***

It's long after midnight when Pike comes home. It had been a really bad idea to let Farnham talk him into a "boys' night out"; he should have remembered that last time they did this, they both ended up trashed. This time he's at least sober enough to decline Farnham's invitation for the night - he really doesn't want some strange substitute tonight when the real thing is out of his grasp. He makes a note to remain abstinent for the remaining week, because two nights in a row isn't good for his brain, liver and work.

_Well, starting tomorrow_, he thinks when he walks into the living-room. He strips out of his leather jacket on the way and then retrieves the almost empty bottle of McCoy's favorite bourbon.

"Here's to you, doc," Pike toasts as he sinks down on the couch, drinking right out of the bottle. His lovers had left yesterday evening, and the damn sappy goodbye scene between the three of them had made him hit the bottle right after they went out the door. The hang-over consequently had lasted all day, until he brushed it up with new drinks, thanks to John's insistence. Not that he'd really fought him.

It's definitely not been one of his more glorious days.

Suddenly there's a movement, and in his shocked surprise at recognizing the nude figure in the door frame, the bottle escapes his grip.

"What the hell – Jim!" he snaps annoyed, once he finds his voice again. "You could've sent me a message!" Shakily he bends over, trying to find the bottle. There's some bourbon spilled on the carpet but he doesn't care.

"I tried, but you didn't answer," Kirk says and picks up the bottle for him, placing it aside. "Whoa. Are you always getting this shit-faced when we're gone?"

"It's only the second time you left," Pike replies slurred. "And no, usually not but John thought I needed to be distracted." He pulls Kirk onto his lap down on the couch. "Fuck, man," he says and kisses him hard.

"Might happen," Kirk replies with a smirk.

"Why are you here?" Pike asks. His hands are on Kirk's hips, their groins touching - damn, it feels so good. "Thought you had a tactical course in Montreal."

"They sent me the wrong date – it starts in a day. Thought I might as well wait here, instead of sitting alone in a bar in Canada."

"Sorry I didn't hear the communicator." Pike sighs. "Would've come home instantly. What about the doc?"

"His conference started in time."

"A pity." Pike's eyes drop close, but his hands can't stop groping Kirk's ass.

"Let's go to bed. You're really done," Kirk's voice whispers in his ear.

"Don't want to move," Pike mutters drowsily. "My day was grandiose shit. Everyone and their dog were out to get me. You feel so good. Missed you."

Kirk laughs. "Come on," he says and gets up, catching Pike's hand to pull him up. He maneuvers him into the bedroom, stripping him on the way before placing him gently down on the mattress.

"Come here," Pike murmurs, blindly reaching out.

"I'm right with you," Kirk says, still a laugh in his voice as he lays down next to him, cradling him in his arms.

"You're laughing at me."

"A little. You're cute when you're drunk."

"I only got drunk because I was fucking unhappy", Pike mutters.

"I'm sorry," Kirk murmurs.

"It's hell when you leave. But it's worth it. And I didn't get drunk last time. It's all John's fault."

"Who's John?"

"One of my oldest friends. Collects information. Collects people. Don't trust him. Bad enough that I still speak to him."

"You've got strange friends."

"You bet." Pike rolls over to face Kirk. "Too drunk to get hard, but damn, I want to have sex with you so badly." He kisses Kirk again, sloppily pushing his tongue into his lover's mouth.

"Tomorrow," Kirk says and grinds their bodies together with one hand on Pike's ass. "Let's get some sleep."

"Sleep… don't know. Only when the bed stops moving."

Kirk chuckles. "Relax. Everything will be better in a few hours." Warm lips meet Pike's, as one finger slips along his crack like a promise. "Though I've got to say, I wouldn't be averse to the idea." The words are accompanied by an erection pressed against his soft dick.

"Do something about it," Pike murmurs.

"You're tired." Kirk says, but his fingers slip deeper anyway.

"I'm tired and drunk but not enough not to lay back and let you fuck me. Make me forget this day, Jim."

"Okay." Kirk pulls away, reaching for the lube.

"Make it good." Pike rolls on his back, spreading his legs. Moments later, slick fingers slip in easily. He doesn't really need any preparation, it's more a mental than a physiological thing, and he rocks a little against the probing fingers. One turns into two, three, four and _yeah, that's it_, he thinks as the fingers draw away and are replaced by the real thing. He presses his upper legs into Kirk's waist and pulls him close. His own hands go as far as he can reach, nudging and spreading Kirk's ass as the younger man starts riding him.

"Fuck, yes…" He loses himself in the motion and the feel of it all, the body above him, the mouth on his lips, the hand on his dick. When Pike comes, it's like a sweet, lazy wave that lingers long after the wetness is cleaned away. He feels warm and relaxed and only a tiny little sea-sick. "Thank you so much," is the last thing he mutters before sleep claims him.

*

The room is too damn bright, and he squints when he opens his eyes. For a second, he's disoriented, then his memory slowly, very slowly clears and he remembers. Well, bits and pieces at least.

"Shit," he grouches and rolls away from the body next to his, rubbing his face.

"Good morning, Chris," Kirk greets him, much too awake and as bright as the day - and a telling grin on his face.

"Was I as drunk as I remember?"

"Yes."

"Shit. Did I talk about…?" Pike wonders how to ask without actually mentioning anything.

"…John?" Kirk supplies helpfully.

"For example." Better that than a lot of other possible themes, Pike thinks.

"Only that he's your friend though I shouldn't trust him. Guess you've got your own old Spock in your life." Kirk's grin changes into a curious smile.

Pike rolls further away and onto his stomach. "I'm not awake enough for a discussion like that."

"I could make some coffee," Kirk says, but his hand moves under the covers and caresses Pike's back.

"Coffee. Sounds good. Intravenous, please."

Kirk bends forward, his lips tickling Pike's ear shell. "You're really super-cute like this. Should take a picture for Bones."

"I'll kill you if you do."

"With your reflexes down like this, you wouldn't stand a chance, admiral." Kirk's hands slip deeper, and Pike's body just warms up to the idea when his console alert sounds. With a groan, Pike buries his face in his pillow.

"Rise and shine; it sounds urgent." Kirk pulls away the blanket, and with a frown of doom, Pike scrambles out of bed and into his small office. The chair squeals when he heavily sits down into it.

"It's Leonard," Pike says loudly in surprise when he sees the number. "Good morning, doc!" he greets him when McCoy's face (also much too awake) appears on the screen. "Didn't you have a conference?"

"I am at the conference, and hi, Chris." McCoy quirks his lips. "I trust Jim could ease the pain of our departure a little."

"A little." Pike smiles.

"Good." McCoy gets all business. "I'm calling you because I had a little chat with a colleague this morning. Her name is Naaz Anumanchi. I'm transmitting her data while we speak. We collaborated on a project before; she's an expert in brain stem diseases and if I had something like that, she'd be my doctor of choice. She's often in San Francisco for a research project with SFM, so getting her onto your case shouldn't be a problem."

"I see." _Just what I need this morning_, Pike thinks sourly – he'd successfully forgotten all about those isolated events for months and definitely regrets that he'd let hints of them slip in McCoy's presence. Of course the doc wouldn't let it rest and had already wrestled the existing scans from him, but judged them to be nondescript.

"Don't look so annoyed, Chris," McCoy says, eyebrows drawing together in a scowl. "I don't think I've got to tell you how dangerous it is to ignore neurological failures. You could end up in a wheelchair or worse, and none of us would like that. So if there's a next time, please do me the favor to call her – and call her early, we need better scans."

"Maybe."

"Just do it, dammit. But who am I talking to? You captains all think you're invincible." McCoy rolls his eyes. "I only get on your nerves because I care too much about you."

"I know," Pike replies, voice a little rough from his dry throat. "Thanks, doc."

"Give my regards to Jim. I'll call him tonight." The connection closes with a last nod from McCoy.

Kirk leans in the door, arms folded. Pike doesn't have to ask if he knows what this was about – it's written all over Kirk's serious face.

"Come here," Pike says with a sigh.

Kirk pushes himself off the door frame, drawing close. "Chris –"

"Shut up," Pike says and directs Kirk against the office table right next to the console. Then he puts one hand around the base of Kirk's dick and gently licks its head.

"Oh…" Kirk utters a little moan as Pike takes the convenient morning hard-on deeper into his mouth. "You'll be late."

"I don't care," Pike states between licks. "They could live without me for a week. They'll live with me coming in late."

"What happened to the dedicated officer –?"

"Got grounded," Pike says snappishly, his hands firmly on Kirk's dick.

"Chris, please –" Kirk says, capturing his hands. "Not that I don't like a little distraction, but this feels weird."

"Fine." Pike jumps to his feet and leaves the room. Torn between shower and kitchen, he chooses the first. The water is already running down his head like summer rain when the door opens.

"Damn – let's talk about it." Kirk says outside the shower.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"That thing with your brain."

"My brain is fine."

"Not what I heard."

"How about waiting outside before my hangover gets the better off me?" Pike growls, borderline pissed. He heavily leans forward with his palms against the wall as a sudden headache spikes.

"Never saw you reacting like that," Kirk diagnoses from outside the curtain. "You sure you're running on all warp cores?"

"That's because you never saw me drunk." Pike blindly searches for a hold as he realizes that this is a fucking migraine. He's got pills for that, somewhere – he's forgotten where, it's been months since the last time. He's determined not to give anyone an excuse to haul him back to SFM General, a place he despises from the bottom of his heart, and so he says with effort, "Please, Jim, give me a few minutes, okay? I just need to cool down."

Behind his back, he can feel the curtain being withdrawn. "Chris – what's the matter?" There's annoyance and concern in Kirk's voice. Pike mutely shakes his head. "Fuck –" Kirk climbs into the shower, placing one hand on his back, cradling his face with the other. "Look at me. Please."

When Pike turns his head, he's barely able to focus on Kirk.

"What's wrong?" Kirk states in his best command voice.

"Just – a migraine. Must be the hangover." He's a little weak in the legs when he tries to pull away, and next thing he knows they're both sitting on the hard floor of the bathroom, water pooling around them.

"Shit," Kirk mutters, one arm supportively around Pike's waist. "You got any medicine here for it?"

"Kitchen, wall cupboard - I guess."

"I'll find it." Kirk leaves him and returns quickly with a glass for water and pack of pills. "Gathered these are the ones. Little red pills." Kirk laughs a bit at what must be an inside joke that Pike doesn't get, then pushes two of them and the glass filled with water into Pike's hands. "Can you manage?" he asks as he kneels down in front of Pike.

"Hope so." With shaking hands, Pike swallows the pills and rinses with the water.

Kirk takes a towel and dries them and the floor a little, then sits down next to him again, taking him in a light embrace. "Just a migraine, huh?"

"Yes." Pike sags against his lover with eyes closed.

"Never knew you get those." Kirk brushes through Pike's damp hair with his free hand, massaging his scalp. "Isn't it strange? For all the recordings we share, you're still hard to get to know. There's so much you never speak about…"

"You're just as bad," Pike mumbles. "Or what's going on between you and the doc that you react like shit when he's called to a surgery that's inconvenient for you?"

Kirk smiles sadly. "That obvious? Well, I can tell you that once you're in a long-term relationship, there'll always be things that get on your nerves."

"Bullshit."

"Yeah," Kirk says after a moment of silence. "Probably."

"Don't let it fester."

"Does it look as if I do?"

"Yes. You've got to spend some time with each other. Off ship."

There's a light chuckle as Kirk replies, "Preaching to the converted. We already planned to go off for the next weekend. I only hope I can hide Bones' comm."

"You better do that, and no showing up here."

"Promise," Kirk says, just serious enough to let Pike know that he means it.

"But about you –" Kirk starts.

The migraine is slowly receding, and he owes Kirk some answers, even if he doesn't want to give them. Seems this vacation is a trip to the land of uncomfortable truths. "Ask away."

"I never understood why you made Auditor General. It's the most boring stuff that's ever been invented, and while I bet it's good that someone puts a little spin on it, it's way outside your usual track. They must've offered you something else, didn't they? I always thought you should've taken Fleet Operations."

Pike presses the heel of one hand against his temple, rubbing in circles. "They offered this and that… but I just couldn't do anything that would put me in front of a press micro or a group of cadets. Couldn't send anyone out anymore. Couldn't give speeches. Narada was rock bottom. I still believe Starfleet is important, but… I don't know. It's just not the same anymore."

"You're still on the advisory board for missions, aren't you?"

"Nogura's attempt to keep me onboard."

"The talk you had with us back then, when you substituted for Barnett?"

"His obvious attempt at pitching 'Fleet Operations to me."

There's silence again, then Kirk asks, "What do you really want?"

"Besides you and the doc? No fucking clue."

"It's been five years."

"So what."

Something clears in Pike's head, and he pulls away a little, turning his inquiring gaze at Kirk. "Why are you asking, Jim? Why today?" There's a strange blush creeping up Kirk's chin, and he gives the man his best authoritative look. Kirk buckles under it.

"Nogura called me yesterday afternoon."

"Did he?" _That manipulative bastard._ "And what did he say?"

"Not much. I didn't know at first why he called me, he just chatted about this and that until he suddenly brought you up. Told me you're being considered for an important position but that you probably won't take it. He made it clear he knows about us, but didn't tell me I should influence you – he only wanted me to ask you why you've never taken any of the other positions. So – you told him about us?" Kirk asks, his forehead creased in a light frown. "You could've warned us beforehand."

"Mostly told Barnett, and only because he was being an ass about you and me and implied that we're going behind McCoy's back and endangering your team," Pike says. "I hadn't planned to out us but I couldn't let the two of you look stupid or amoral." He draws up his legs, slinging his arms around his knees. "I know we never really talked about going public with it - did I fuck up?"

"Well." Kirk smiles a little crookedly. "It's not like we wanted to make it known right away, but we accepted that eventually, it might happen. So it's Barnett and Nogura - or everyone?"

"There've been a lot of rumors floating around, but they'll die over time. I think only these two know that it's a threesome relationship." Pike rubs his face. "I'm sorry, Jim. I'm truly sorry. As I said, it's been a shit day, I've had a hangover, been in a shit mood and I tried to pretend that everything was fine. Like I always do. There are so few people where I just can be myself…"

"And we're not really there yet," Kirk concludes.

"Most of the time, you are. But it's hard to break the habit." Pike smiles sadly. "You're the captain. You're not allowed to have a breakdown in front of your crew. You're not allowed to be just human."

Kirk unfocusedly gazes into the room. "I know. Without Bones… I wouldn't know how to handle it. Although at other times, it's hard to have someone onboard I care so damn much about."

"It's a miracle to me that you make it work. You're really exceptional, both of you."

"We've got enough couples on board."

"But in almost none of those could one send the other on a potentially deadly mission. Or himself."

"As if it's just me," Kirk states darkly.

With effort, Pike goes through the mission reports in thoughts. "That rescue mission. The population suffering from a deadly mutation of Borrelian virus."

"Bones almost killed himself down there, totally neglecting his own health. What good is a doctor who doesn't know the first rule of first aid, secure yourself first, secure others second."

Pike chuckles.

"What the fuck –" Kirk says annoyed.

Damn, laughing makes his head hurt again, but Pike can't help it. "Pots and kettles, Jim." His control goes to hell for a minute, then he leans against Kirk, churning out, "Sorry, I'm on a trip, the drug and the alcohol don't mix well." It's half true; he's in an interesting mind-set where reality doesn't look quite as it should, but he's also fascinated by Kirk's one-sided look at the matter.

"Are you?" Kirk asks, but his lips twist and suddenly, he laughs too. "Aw, shit. I know, I know, I'm just as bad."

"You are. I don't know how the doc manages to live with it, because I'm not sure I could." Pike leans his head back with a sigh.

"How about getting you into bed? This floor is really hard." With Kirk's help, Pike makes it into the bedroom, calling in sick with his assistant for the day on the way.

Pike falls asleep, waking up naturally at what must be around noon. Next to him, Kirk sits with his back to the headboard, a PADD in his hands.

"Hey, Chris," Kirk says gently. "How are you?"

Pike needs a moment to think about it. "Almost back to normal," he says.

"Need something to drink? Coffee?"

"Water would be welcome."

"Water?" Kirk chuckles. "You must be ill." He slips out of bed and returns with a water bottle and two cups of coffee, one of which he places next to Pike. "Just for good measure," he says with a twinkle, then sits down again.

The liquids are quite necessary, both of them. Afterwards, Pike scoots up in the cushion so that his head is close to Kirk's lap. "What are you reading?"

"The latest joint publication by Spock and Scotty about warp drive improvements. I like to pretend that I understand a word of what they're saying when they come up with suggestions in our meetings."

"I seem to remember that Captain Woodworth would've loved to make an engineer out of you, and he was a demanding instructor."

"Well, yes – I like to know as much as possible about my ship," Kirk admits. "Sometimes Scotty and I meet next to the warp cores, just sitting there and… listening to her. Is that normal?"

"On my first commission, I sat in the empty astrophysics lab every night, watching the stars and listening to the ship's heartbeat." Pike smiles. "I'd say it's normal."

"Good. I wouldn't want to make anything abnormal in my life." Kirk grins, then puts the PADD aside and moves down so that he's face to face with Pike.

"Glad you're better." Fingertips caress his forehead and temples, before Kirk's lips descend on his. Pike wonders if sex is a recommended procedure so shortly after a migraine, but his body totally jumps the band wagon, and soon he's on his back, strong lips grazing up and down his hard-on. When Kirk asks him what he wants, he finds that while lying back has its merits, he wants to take Kirk more actively. They trade positions, and now Pike's the one licking up and down a hard length while inserting his fingers into Kirk's ass for preparation. He's using a good dose of the special lube that had worked wonders on the doc, and then slips a condom over his dick because otherwise, this would be a very short ride.

When he pushes inside, Kirk's so ready and hot that his whole body arches against him. He moves gently at first, trying to pace himself because his body isn't quite up for that much activity. And heaven knows, he wants to last long enough to experience Kirk coming just from being fucked once more, which is always a breathtaking moment. He keeps shifting his hips for the best angle, Kirk' arms and legs laced around him, holding them tightly together through the ride. He enjoys every second of hearing Jim's moans and little whimpers, beautiful sounds coming from the man he's learned to love so much. He covers his neck with kisses, then presses his cheek against Kirk's chin before increasing his speed, trying to pour all his feelings into the moment.

"I love you so much. And I'm so proud of you," Pike mutters. "So damn proud." There's a shiver going through the body underneath him and then there's a sudden wetness on his skin. Something in his own chest stutters as realization hits him, and he stops his rolling movement just when Kirk arches up and another, warm-slick liquid pools beneath his hips. He screws his eyes shut, holding his heavily breathing lover with all his might for a long time. Kirk's arms and legs slack a little as the tension runs off, releasing their hold. At last Pike shifts to rise on his elbows, looking at Kirk's face in concern.

"Jim?"

Kirk opens his eyes, his gaze defensive and vulnerable, but he doesn't do anything to brush the lingering tears away.

_No father-son thing between us? You could've fooled me._

"Chris…" He palms Pike's face, drawing his thumb over Pike's lower lip. There's a damn long silence in which nobody finds words, before Kirk says, almost pleadingly, "You haven't come yet. Let me take care of it."

"Sure," Pike says roughly, although he isn't confident that his erection, which faltered enough to slip out of Kirk's body sometime during the last few minutes, will cooperate. He shuffles back on his heels, unsure how to proceed.

"Sit down on the side of the bed," Kirk says, and he turns and positions himself on the edge of the bed, his soles meeting the cooler carpet. Kirk rolls out of bed and sinks to his knees between Pike's spread legs, removing the condom from the half-hard member. Then he gently tongues it back to life, and after the first concerned moments, Pike relaxes, giving into the flow. He doesn't take long to come, stimulated by the sight of Jim's bobbing head as much as from the actual touch, and slumps back on his elbows afterwards.

Kirk leans his forehead against the inner side of Pike's upper leg, his fingertips idly stroking everything they can reach. Pike laces one hand into Kirk's dark-blond strands, combing through them. He can feel Kirk taking a deep breath that ends in a small sigh, and takes it as encouragement to keep stroking.

"I thought you knew," Pike says at last, feeling like the dumbest idiot on Earth.

Kirk opens his eyes and looks up at him from underneath his long lashes. "Deep inside, I knew. But you never said it quite like that."

"No, I didn't. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Kirk places a few kisses along his skin, then looks up again with a somewhat forced smile. "I've got to leave soon, otherwise I'll miss my transport back and SF command will be unhappy."

Pike nods. "I know. Let's take a shower."

They're really good and while there's a certain pleasure in cleaning each other under the hot water, they don't fool around anymore but talk about the 'Fleet instead.

He watches Kirk dress, how layers of fabric cover up the body and turn Jim-his-lover into Captain James T. Kirk of the Enterprise. Yes, he's damn proud of him, and he's glad that Kirk knows that explicitly now.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Kirk says. "See how things are going." He twinkles.

"I won't drink tonight."

"You better not. Or I'll send Bones over for a first-class lecture."

Pike shakes his head. "No need for that."

"Good." Kirk pulls him into a kiss. "Talk to you soon. Take care."

When the door closes behind him, Pike sighs. _I hate good-byes_, he thinks, then dresses and drives to his office, spending the evening with his delayed work.

*

Over the course of the week, he gets two calls a day – the doc in the morning, and Jim in the afternoon. If McCoy knows anything about his breakdown in the shower, he doesn't say so; in fact, he talks about anything but Pike's health, which is a Very Good Thing (in capital letters), in Pike's opinion. Jim mostly talks about the tactical course, complaining about some of the sessions, only loving a few – a typical mix. Pike knows that the course is mostly an excuse to bring some captains and acting captains together in a relaxed surrounding outside of their ship responsibilities, and to encourage them to talk relatively freely about their experiences and problems. He spends some time thinking about Nogura's offer, and while he's gone as far as checking potential task force members and plotting the first courses of action, he's still undecided.

Then it's suddenly Friday, and his console remains quiet as he has given standing orders to both his lovers to spend the weekend with _each other_ for a change. Pike goes on a spontaneous one-and-a-half day hike in some mountain area, all on his own. It mostly manages to remind him why he usually preferred travel on horse back – much easier on his legs.

When he returns Sunday midday, he takes a shower, then sidles into his bedroom. _I'm getting old_, Pike thinks as he sprawls on his bed, every limb heavy and tired. Well, nothing wrong with a nap, especially as nothing in the world demands his attention right now. He falls asleep on the spot.

It's already dark when he wakes up again, taking a moment to register just what exactly had stirred him out of sleep. There are steps outside the room, and he crawls out of bed, grabs his jeans to dress and walks into the corridor. It's dark and he's caught by surprise when he almost falls over a bag.

"Shit," he mutters, then calls into the dark apartment. "Hey, boys! I told you not to show up here until next week!"

There's no reply besides some ominous sounds from the bathroom.

"Fine." He switches on the lights, then goes into the kitchen for a coffee. There's a box on the table, and he freezes as he sees the logo on top of it, _Stoway's Organic Food_ printed on a background of apples and oranges. When he lifts the cover, he finds a mix of fresh fruits; apples, pears and grapes. He picks one of the latter, and they're just as firm and sweet as ever – _Tom really is a good farmer_ – but he really, really wonders why –

"Hey, lover." Kirk tears him out of his musing, hugging him before making room for the doc.

"Chris…" The doc grabs Pike's hand and pulls him close, drawing him into a hot, wet kiss that shuts up any remarks about their unplanned arrival. As usual, McCoy's kiss does amazing things to Pike's blood flow, all of which goes downwards.

"So –" Pike clears his throat when he's finally released, though McCoy doesn't let him go very far, "you've been at the farm?" He turns to Kirk, which brings his back to the doc's chest. Arms lace around him from behind, one hand settling on one of his nipples, the other one on his crotch. He rarely uses the cliché word "boneless" but it fits well with the way his body feels right now, still sleepy-warm and molding against the doc's form. Just like with the kissing before, a part of him marvels at the way McCoy can turn him on in the wink of an eye; there's something special about the man that gets through his defenses quicker than anyone else does, even Jim. Suddenly caught up by the vague feeling of guilt, he opens his eyes (when did they even fall close?).

"We had a standing invitation from Nat, so we called her this morning and met her and Tom and his family at the farm," McCoy says next to his ear.

Pike stares at Kirk, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. He remembers how he had described Tom to him - _he's five years older than you, a high-tech farmer… married with two kids, leading a rather boring life, nothing like yours_ – and can't help wondering if today, Kirk had seen the way his life might have turned out if he hadn't been the son of a dead hero, hadn't had a mother who ignored him and a step father who couldn't handle him. And if Kirk's dining on ashes about those possibilities now – although he knows Kirk usually isn't the type for it, seeing what might be like an alternate universe in terms of living isn't necessarily just shoved aside.

Pike suddenly wonders if Kirk ever thought about having kids himself, then doubts that Kirk would even mention that theme with either of them.

"I was curious." Kirk shrugs.

"And?"

Kirk shrugs again. "Nice kids. Nice farm. Great apples." He takes one and heartily bites into it.

_That's all?_ Pike thinks in disbelief and opens his mouth, but the doc nudges his hand in a quiet shut up signal, and so he doesn't drill deeper for now. He'll be damned not to do that at some later time, though.

"Why are you here?" Pike asks instead. "I told you to spend the weekend with each other." On his body, the doc's hands do their damnedest to distract him, currently teasing and prodding both his nipples. He recognizes the tactic and doesn't really like it but is too caught up in the growing heat anyway.

"Oh, we had a great time," Kirk says between bites. "We've met in Tokyo on Friday because neither of us had been there, did a little sight-seeing in Japan, tried some wonderful seafood…"

They talk about this and that from their weekend, and lulled in the cozy tapestry of sound and touch, Pike's mind slowly starts drifting again. After awhile, his head sinks back against the shoulder behind him, and his legs part further to give the doc's hand more room as it cups his bulge, the whole situation kindling an unusual and rare feeling of weakness deep inside of him. He sighs involuntarily as McCoy shifts, pressing a tangible erection against his crack.

"You're so fucking hot, man," the doc whispers roughly, and it's this moment that Pike notices that the discussion has died.

"Where's Jim?" he asks confused.

"He went ahead to the restaurant. We'll meet him later."

"Shit, I –"

"It's okay, Chris," McCoy says, holding him tightly. "It's okay. He wants us to have a good time." The hand on his bulge moves, cradling his balls, running over the length of his pulsing erection under the fabric. "Jesus, I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be able to sit down all night."

"That's a promise?" Pike asks amused, his smile ending in a gasp as McCoy pushes him forward against the kitchen table. A strong hand clamps around his neck, forcing his chest down on the hard wood. In the back of his mind, the voice of reason pipes up in concern, admonishing him _there's a reason you don't play on the bottom side_, but it shuts up when the other hand opens his belt and pulls down the zipper of his jeans. Strong fingers lace into the waistband and push the material down his hips, then heavily knead his flesh, the other hand still locked around his neck.

"I've wanted to do this since forever," McCoy rasps. "Remember the day I got my revenge? How I tied you down on the med bed and gave you the beating you deserved?" The fingers massage his ass, then there's a first hard slap across one cheek.

"Yes," Pike gasps, spreading his legs as far as the jeans stuck around his upper thighs allows.

"Tied you down and got my belt out and striped your skin." A knee presses between his legs, nudging his loosely hanging sack, while he feels his belt being pulled out of the loops. "And you liked it."

"Won't tell," Pike retorts with a low laugh, then clamps his hands around the edges of the table in preparation for the surely incoming next slaps.

"You were fucking hard. I was fucking hard. I was so close to doing something about it, but you never laid hands on my dick so I figured I couldn't just bend the rules. We needed our master rule breaker James T. Kirk to bend them for us."

Pike nods minutely.

"I'll tell you something." The doc leans over him, pressing him against the table with his full body weight. His voice is a low whisper when he says, "Today, I'll bend the rules myself."

"Why don't you stop talking and get on with it, McCoy?" Pike states, every word a challenge. He startles only a little when iron hands grab his arms and pulls them together behind his back. He knows where this is going, and he's so damn glad Kirk isn't here, because he'd never be able to stomach the idea of Kirk seeing him like _this_, his own belt being wrapped around his upper arms, pulled together until it almost hurts. The hands move on, capturing his wrists before wrapping something like duct tape around them crisscrossed. He's tied and helpless and it's not really a flashback as the emotions swap over him but it's intense as hell. He's damn close to panic, he realizes, as he starts hyperventilating, his chest heaving against the table, air harshly coming in and out through his mouth. Like from a distance, he can feel the doc's touch, hears quiet words that calm him just with their tone and ease him away from the panic.

"Knew you could do it." The words reach Pike once the white noise in his mind becomes bearable again. "Best of breed." The hands are back on his ass, rubbing along his crack. "Fucking toughest guys I know, you captains." It's a rather dry thumb that's shoved inside but it's just fine, he's pushing against it anyway.

"Not so fast," he's admonished, and a palm is placed on the midst of his back to keep him in position. "I'm going to go slow. I'm going to cherish this."

"Could you please shut up?" Pike groans. He wants this but he's not sure if he can stand a running commentary on it.

"Okay," comes the serious answer, and when the slaps begin to fall down on his ass, Pike can let the feelings run through him without distraction. The pain that peeks right after the hit and then diffuses into burning warmth; the way he's getting light-headed, riding the endorphin high onto which the doc brings him to with a perfect pacing. He's hard and hot and his legs start shaking when the pain slowly approaches the threshold of _too much_ and then dip over that little bit farther than he really wants but still _needs_, before the beating stops abruptly.

There's sweat pooling between his chest and the table, and he's breathing harshly, bracing himself for whatever the doc might have in mind next.

"Guess it's time to go back to this," McCoy murmurs, and this time, the thumb is lubed when it's pressing inside. It still burns a little, for no good reason. Over the next two fingers, his ass adjusts to it. Then everything is withdrawn, and something else is slipped inside, a little wider, a little harder, a little curved…?

Pike arches in surprise as the vibration starts. "Damn!"

A hand is pressed against his tailbone, forcing his body back down on the table.

"You should know it - it's one of yours." The vibration changes its rhythm; from a regular flow into buzzing little signals that go right into his prostate.

"That's a damn torture," Pike moans. Next time they visit, he's going to lock away every plaything that he doesn't want to have used on himself - which would be most of them, with this beastie anal toy on top of the list.

The jeans get removed; then, without warning, he's pulled up by the belt that's wrapped around his upper arms and turned around. A little disoriented, he leans against McCoy, sighing as the doc runs his hands over his tied arms.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," Pike mutters. _Don't fucking untie me_, he thinks, but it's not something that will leave his lips.

McCoy nods. "Good." He pulls something out of his pocket. "You remember these?"

Pike's eyes widen a little. "Clamps."

"Yeah, lovely nipple clamps," McCoy says with a smirk, dangling them on their connecting chain in front of Pike's face. "Bought them a while ago, thinking of you." He bends forward, sucking Pike's already slightly raw nubs until they are hard.

_Holy damn_, flashes through Pike's brain when the first clamp is attached. He'd all but forgotten how painful these could be. He clenches his jaw but a low moan escapes anyway, and McCoy captures his chin and draws him into a kiss as if he could lick away the pain. Then the doc fastens the other clamp, and Pike trembles a little as he looks down, eyeing the silvery clamps on his flat chest. Between the torturously arousing vibrator in his ass and the pain in his nipples, his blood is flooded with a superb endogenous drug mix, pulsing in his veins.

"Lovely picture," the doc says and lightly tugs the chain.

"Bastard."

"I try my best." The doc's intense smile deepens, before the chain is tugged in earnest. "Come on," the doc orders and pulls Pike behind him to the living room. All of Pike's nerves seem to be concentrated on his nipples and this _fucking hurts_, but resistance would hurt more so he follows the lead until he's ordered to his knees in front of the couch.

Pike's teeth capture his lower lip as he fights for control in front of McCoy's appreciating gaze.

"Stay put," the doc says and leaves the room. Pike settles on his spot as much as he can in this rather uncomfortable position. He briefly closes his eyes but in the darkness, all sensations seem to double in impact and he's not able to deal with that joined assault. He glances at the door when the steps return, and frowns when he sees a bottle of water and a chocolate bar.

"You look damn pale." McCoy passes him and takes place on the couch. "Come here."

Pike moves forward on his knees until he's between McCoy's spread legs, then lets himself get fed some water and a piece of chocolate.

"Good taste," the doc says appreciating after having some of the bar himself. "You look beautiful like this, do you know?" he says softly and combs through Pike's hair.

It evokes a little too much of the wrong emotions right now, so Pike turns his head away with a frown.

"Hooo!" The doc catches his jaw, demanding Pike's focus. "If I want to caress you, I'm going to do that as long as I want to." He leans forward and takes hold of the chain between the clamps with his left hand. With a small crook of his fingers, he forces Pike closer to the couch, smiling over his victim's strangled sound of pain.

"I might be fooled into thinking you're really suffering… if not for this." McCoy leans forward and with his other hand, captures the unfailing erection that's rubbing against the couch. "You're just as much of a pain slut as Jim," the doc murmurs as he's alternating between pulling the clamps and jerking the hard-on, enjoying Pike's turned-on suffering. "Not that I'm surprised; after listening to one too many stories about the command track, it's been crystal-clear to me that a hefty dose of masochism and some borderline insanity are favorable traits."

Pike can't help laughing about that statement, although he regrets it when McCoy jerks at that damn chain until they're face to face.

"How's your ass?"

"Inside or outside?"

With a knowing grin, the doc releases Pike's dick and pulls out the remote control. "Let's see," he says and dials up the controls with his thumb. It makes the tied man curl forward with a growl.

"Guess again."

"Keep doing this, and I'll go crazy," Pike forces out, breathing harshly. The former regular, almost forgettable pattern is now completely irregular, changing in intensity, speed and rhythm every few seconds. It combines brutally intense stimulation with an element of random torture.

_Fuck._

"Well…" McCoy leans back. "Wonder if you'll come before going nuts, or vice versa. In any case, I guess it's time to make good use of your mouth, before any of this happens." He pulls down his zipper with one hand, nudging his erection out of his pants.

Pike watches in an uneasy mix of arousal and tension, suddenly not quite trusting himself. He looks into McCoy's eyes, holding the doc's gaze, watching the features changing, the face relaxing as the doc stimulates himself. Then he looks down, following the movement of fingers curled around the doc's member, the rotation of the thumb over the glans.

_I can do that_, he decides at last and scoots a little backwards for more maneuvering space before he gives the erection a tentative lick. He needs a moment to adjust but then he bends lower, taking the whole length into his mouth. He's extremely glad that McCoy doesn't grab his head, only puts an encouraging hand on the left side of his face, warm and gentle.

"Stop," McCoy orders just when Pike can feel the first telling twitching, and with a sigh, he pulls back, taking some deep breaths. One of the doc's own hands moves to the erection, and the thumb of the other one is back on the vibrator's remote, dialing the intensity higher yet.

Pike gasps as the white-hot stimulation makes his insides cramp. He's on the brink of orgasm for so long now but he knows he won't ever achieve it like this – and McCoy knows too. "Damn, doc…"

"What do you want, Chris?" The doc asks very, very sweetly, though his eyes are dark and smoldering.

"Fuck me already," Pike throws McCoy's own words from eight days ago back at the sitting man.

"Should I?"

Pike balls his fists, noticing that the fingers are turning cold and clammy but determined to get over with it all before he'll say a word about it, even if he's going to end up with some nerve damage. "What do you want?"

"Guess," the doc says, still damn sweet. He's slouched back now, his ass barely hanging on the edge of the couch, his erection bopping a little under his slow jerks. Then he's adding a slap of lube onto the proud member, distributing it all over like an offer. "And guess a little faster, because if I'm done before you, I'll take you to the restaurant as you are, the vibe still up your butt."

Pike swallows hard; he doubts the doc would do that but _hell_, the doc's also always good for surprises and the thought of Jim seeing him like this, while being a tiny bit of a turn-on, still mostly makes him reel in serious humiliation, a feeling he doesn't deal well with.

"F…"

He screws his eyes shut, inhaling harshly. Feels the torturing arousal and the increasingly throbbing pain at various places of his body eating away his resolve to never, ever beg, until he crumbles.

"Damn, doc, fuck me. Make me come. Please."

There's a terribly victorious grin on McCoy's face when the doc drops his hand onto his upper thigh. "Lord, I thought you'd never come around." He springs up from the couch and moves behind Pike's back. Pike faintly feels him kneeling down behind him and isn't really surprised when a palm is pressed between his shoulder blades, forcing his head and shoulders down onto the couch's seat. It's not very comfortable, and he tries to shift a little forward, but is kept in position by the sudden, painful grip on the belt, which gives McCoy a damn convenient handle on his body. At his ass, something pushes inside, though the vibrator is still in place.

"Doc?" he mutters in concern when he feels his ring muscle being opened wide under the pressure, one hardness added to another.

"I know you can take it," the doc says sweetly, and _damn_ if this doesn't feel like revenge all over, but then the doc's length is suddenly all in and it's the most mind-blowing thing ever, feeling so controlled and full and just completely _taken_, that every other thought dies. A burning heat pools in his groin and his ass, and he's ridden for all his worth and there still isn't a hand on his dick and he's begging for it, goddamn pride can return later, now he's just fucking going to give in, into _anything_ as long as the doc doesn't stop. And he doesn't stop, no, but he also doesn't help him, he just keeps pounding into him until Pike feels him coming with a few erratic thrusts, all slick and wet through the last jerky pushes.

Only then the pull at the belt vanishes and a hand angles for his bulge. He mindlessly shoves into the forming fist, fighting his way to orgasm, begging for a tighter hold, swearing and insulting the man who doesn't grant it to him, until his body at last crosses the threshold. He arches when there's suddenly a hand on his chest and with a hard jerk, the clamps are torn off, making him cry out in sheer pain. Through the haze of agony and bright, flashing anger, the doc's hand forces him to ride out his orgasm, arousal and pain inextricably mingled in one glorious showdown. _Goddamn_ he's going to make him pay for this. _Holy shit._

Pike slackens, crumbling onto the floor with his right shoulder resting against the couch, his legs folded under him. He hasn't been in that much pain for ages, but he's also insanely satisfied and feels strangely smug and absolutely well-fucked. His hair clings to his forehead, wet from sweat, and he groans as McCoy starts to untie his arms, every touch a little painful.

"Aw, fuck," Pike gasps as he stretches his arms and shoulders. Almost everything that's gone numb is awakening, a thousand little needles tingling under his skin.

The doc crouches behind him, caressing his skin. "I asked you if it hurts."

"It didn't hurt enough for removal," Pike mutters.

"Hefty dose of masochism, for sure," McCoy retorts and strokes down his arms.

"I fear you're onto something," Pike says, resting his head against the couch. If he'd been boneless before, now he's absolutely done, not an ounce of energy left in his body. "I'm dead."

"No, you're not, not until I write the death certificate, and I hope I won't ever need to," McCoy says, placing a kiss on the crook of his neck. "What about a shower?"

"Only if you carry me. I don't think my legs would cooperate."

"That could be arranged," McCoy says and moves to his front, pretending to throw Pike over his shoulder. But just a ghostly brush over his left nipple makes Pike falter with his arms as shield in front of his breast. "Don't you dare! Damn, nobody ever manhandled me like you tonight."

"I know," McCoy says seriously. "And I hope it's okay that I'm a little proud of it."

"Yeah," Pike relents. He thinks about moving onto the couch but that would mean having to work against gravity, and so the pull to the floor is much easier to obey. Once his hurting body is sprawled out on the carpet, he closes his eyes.

"I've got a suggestion," a voice high above him says. "What about calling Jim and asking him to bring in the food?"

"Fabulous," Pike mutters, moving his hands a little to assess the damage. A blanket lands on him, and he weakly distributes it over himself. Someone calls somebody and there's some talk about _pizza_ and _antipasti_ and he's drifting when someone curls up next to him, wrapping him tightly into the blanket. Soon he's dragged into the shower, both of his lovers supporting him, and he doesn't comment on their own black-and-blue asses and he doesn't really want to know which musings between them he had to thank for his session today.

Later, when he's in bed, his stomach filled with good food, his body warm and layered from both sides by bodies clutched to his, he marvels about the evening, thinking _never to late to learn something new about yourself_. There are Kirk's lips on his, the kiss gentle and understanding, and there's the doc's arm around his waistline, protective and possessive, and he's got the damn best relationship in the world and if his tortured nubs think otherwise, it's their own damn problem.

Sleep comes easy and dreamless.

*

If Pike could change his schedule, he would but he's got an important appointment this Monday morning, and so he quickly switches off his alert and eases himself out of bed – which is a little hard after being in the middle. Both men open their eyes but he talks them back to sleep, promising he'll look back in before leaving. He takes a long shower, assessing his state – sitting will be interesting today and he's not sure if his uniform shirt will go down well with his still extremely sensitive nipples– and then goes into the kitchen for a coffee, towel wrapped around his waist.

Quiet steps approach, and he glances around to find Kirk in the doorway, his face still sleepy, his hand barely able to cover the big yawn.

"Go back to bed. I promise I'll say good-bye."

"Of course you would." Kirk nods. "I just wanted to say… about yesterday evening…" He blushes slightly.

Pike can feel his own face flushing. "Uh - yes?"

"Just wanted to say that I didn't leave because Bones asked me to or anything. It's just… I prefer you being in control, well, maybe _preference_ is a little weak for it, it's how I want to see you and it's hard for me to imagine you on the other side, although you've got every right to do whatever pleases you, so…"

Pike raises his hand to stop the sincere but also rather amusing apology.

"Jim. It's completely okay and I have a similar problem – meaning, I couldn't have done it if you had watched. It would've felt just wrong."

"Ah. Good. I'm sorry for wanting to avoid this cognitive dissonance, but –"

"Jim," Pike says again, trying to stop his barely awake lover. "It's okay." He draws him into an embrace, hugging him tightly. "Why don't you go back to bed? I'll be with you in a minute."

"Fine," Kirk says with another yawn and nods. He's almost through the door when he half-turns around, looking over his shoulder. "That position you got offered – how are you going to decide?"

Pike smiles. "Kept thinking of it, did you? Well – I think I'll accept the job." He hadn't been sure until this very morning, and it probably says a lot that he needed a serious ass-kicking to let him see more the merits of the offer than the drawbacks of becoming a 'fleet figure head again in the not so distant future. But he's not ready to analyze the decision yet – he just knows it's the right one.

"That's brilliant, Chris!" Kirk blurts out and comes back into the kitchen for another, tumbling embrace. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, Jim. Now, hush, go to bed."

He follows him soon, spending another ten minutes in bed with them, enjoying their warmth under his palms, their lips on his skin, and then he gets up, dresses and walks out into the corridor. They accompany him to the entrance of the apartment, and neither knows if they'll meet again during this stay. For a moment, all are silent.

"We already had our good-bye ceremony a week ago," Pike says and smiles. "So let's just kiss and part and we'll keep in touch, one way or the other. You're still welcome to show up here any time, and I mean _any_." He laces on hand round Jim's neck, drawing him close.

"Jim, take care of my ship - and of the doc," he says and kisses him, trying to memorize the taste and feel of the man who's managed to sneak into his heart a little against his will and now inhabits a spot almost as large as McCoy's.

"So true – I always come second behind the ship," the doc states, a little wounded.

"No matter how grouchy he is," Pike adds with a side glance.

Kirk nods with a grin, brushing an errant hand over his face when Pike moves on to the second man. "Doc…" he closes both his hands around McCoy's upper arms, tightly holding on for a second before harshly drawing him close and kissing him too, making sure it's not getting too good because otherwise he might not make it out of the door within the next hour. "You're the worst sadist I ever met," he mutters, then grins. "And the best. Take care of Jim and make sure you both come back alive and kicking. I hate funeral ceremonies." He withdraws, nodding at them as he straightens his uniform.

"Godspeed, gentlemen." He turns and walks away, a little faster than normal, possibly because his heartbeat's too fast and loud, and he's almost running until he's at his car, taking it for a little ride around the city because he needs a moment all to himself before he's going to see anyone else.

*

Nogura looks a little surprised at first but then is truly, visibly relieved that Pike accepts the command of the Borg task force. It makes Pike wonder if there's more to this command than Nogura let on.

"That's great news. I'll inform everyone involved."

Nogura shows Pike to the door, but stops right in front of it. "By the way – I wanted to ask you if you'd like to take a new protégé. There's a cadet, sent in with a stipendium from the IDIC Foundation. She's good, but she's having problems adjusting to the first semester. I know you've got a heart for complicated cases – I think you'd be beneficial for her."

"Complicated cases?" Pike echoes.

"Let me introduce you to her."

"Let me guess – she's already waiting outside."

"Yes," Nogura takes the door handle. "I thought about taking the job myself, but I think you'd be the much better choice. Please, Chris."

"The last guy was strenuous enough."

"He graduated as second-best of his year, and Captain Ares is very pleased with his weapon officer so far."

"Still earned me some grey hair." Pike shakes his head. "You think she's high potential?"

"I think she's got some potential – I'm not yet sure how much. And if she doesn't get some support, we might never find out."

"I'm not too happy about this. After all, you just made me take over a task force," Pike says as Nogura opens the door. "But let me talk to her for a moment, and we'll see."

They walk out together, and Nogura nods to his secretary. "What about the cadet?" he asks.

"She's waiting outside."

Nogura opens the outer door. "Cadet Dael, please enter."

The person who enters doesn't meet Pike's idea of a female cadet at all; all thin and tall and boyish, the uniform too large with the legs of the pants slightly pooling over the boots, the black hair short and a little wild. The slim face is overly white, the gaze of dark eyes defensive under a lightly creased forehead, the lips thin with tension. If Pike didn't know the cadet is female, he wouldn't have bet on it.

"Cadet, I've just spoken with my colleague Admiral Pike –" Nogura motions to him –"and he agreed to become your academic advisor."

_Did I?_ Pike wonders, but then becomes amused at the way she assesses him with her eyes, and _amusement_ is usually a good indicator for _interesting_. He assesses her in return, giving her a daring raise of his brows when he can see she's close to dropping the whole idea – which probably hadn't been her own anyway.

"Admiral Nogura thought I could be of help," Pike says. "Why don't we find out if this might be the case over a cup of coffee in my office?"

She nods, then sharply pivots around to walk out of the office before the admirals manage a simple _dismissed_.

"Good luck," Nogura voices soundlessly.

"Thanks," Pike replies and follows the cadet. Life suddenly looks a lot more interesting. Between the Borg task force and the challenges a protégé tends to offer, he's already looking forward to having some interesting stories of his own to report soon.

*

Time flies, and as already foreseen by Pike, his lovers don't find the time to hit his apartment again. They all agree that a last-minute coffee somewhere would only make it worse, so Kirk and McCoy ship out without seeing him once more. Pike takes it a lot better then the first (or presumed second) time, still enjoying the fresh memories of their wonderful vacation that cumulated in that gigantic, hot showdown. He rationally accepts that their departure is just the way it needs to be, and even though there wouldn't be any surprise visits for the next few months, there will be recordings and more recordings and maybe he'd be able to use his new position as commandant of the Borg task force to make a trip off Earth.

He hadn't felt like being back in space for awhile, but now that it is becoming a real possibility again (if not in a captain's chair, then at least behind the same), he recognizes the feeling of elation returning that he had back in his childhood whenever he looked up into the night sky. He sips his first coffee on his balcony, even though the first sunrays have already chased the stars away, just to enjoy the morning breeze surrounding him.

As the day moves on, he does feel a little moody but it's nothing compared to last time, so he buries himself in work (task forces need a hell of a lot of communiqués) until in the early afternoon, his console shows an incoming call. When he accepts it, a face springs up on the screen.

"Hi, Christopher."

Pike swallows as memories of Nero unexpectedly raise their ugly head.

"Hi, John. Do me a favor and never again use that exact line on me."

"Fine." There's a long pause, before John asks, "So, they're gone for good?"

"Obviously. They just broadcast the Enterprise departure on the internal channels."

"Let's go out tonight. Brasserie DuPont, and some clubs after that. Dress up accordingly."

"John, I –"

"Twenty-hundred. I'll be there, and so will you. See you later, Chris."

Pike frowns as the connection closes. What the hell...? Farnham had never called him that, no matter how much Pike had tried for years.

He's there five hours later anyway, dressed in black and dark blue, and when Farnham compliments him on his taste after the second glass of white wine, he almost believes it.

Later at the bar, where he drinks nothing but beer, Farnham leans over and gives him a reaming for his obvious inability to accept his friends and the support they'd give him - if he ever asked.

"It's all great to be self-sufficient and emotionally detached as captain onboard a ship, but you're taking it too far. Why don't you think of your friends on Earth as 'Team Pike'? People who are willing and able to back you when you need a little help and support?"

_Team Pike?_ Pike is amused but admits that Farnham might have a point. Like most times in life, though, people can only see the point once they've already passed it, and so he likes to think he's already doing a lot better than over the… well, last ten years.

He's not getting drunk that night, and he wonders if it's part of the teambuilding when he ends up in Farnham's classy apartment anyway, with relaxed hand-jobs accompanying a midnight snack.

_John's really okay as long as he doesn't behave like some B-movie cliché secret agent_, Pike thinks as he falls asleep on the unusual, octagonal bed.

When he tells his men about the evening in his next recording, he's not at all surprised to hear Jim's answer a few days later, "_Glad you had fun with John – I like that a lot better than you getting drunk_," and a completely agreeing snort in the background.

Life is fucking good.


End file.
